


Restraint

by darlingafterdark (ADarlingWrites)



Series: darlingafterdark's den of iniquity [6]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: Charon violates a pillow, Dry Humping, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fantasizing, Forbidden Love, Ghouls, Jesus what are even these tags, LW's sexually frustrated, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Not Beta Read, POV Third Person, Sexual Fantasy, Taboo, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:55:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27645814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADarlingWrites/pseuds/darlingafterdark
Summary: noun:  control over the expression of one's emotions or thoughtsGiven the circumstances of their relationship, with Charon being the Lone Wanderer's patient, and the Lone Wanderer being Charon's employer, acting on any attraction they had for one another would be out of the question.Still, they kept each other in their thoughts.
Relationships: Charon (Fallout)/Female Lone Wanderer, Charon (Fallout)/Lone Wanderer
Series: darlingafterdark's den of iniquity [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1479593
Comments: 5
Kudos: 45





	1. Control

**Author's Note:**

> This fic occurs in the same universe and timeline as my slow burn story, [Absolution](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26372482/chapters/64235098) (and features my LW Percy Zhou), though reading it isn't required to make sense of this one.
> 
> Have some explicit stuff about the fantasies Percy and Charon have for each other because I'm frustrated that I haven't reached the point in the story where they finally get together argh. This was all written in one sitting so I apologize for the quality.

Being someone’s boss isn’t something Percy is used to.

Usually, it’s she who followed orders, either from her father when she’s assisting him in his clinic, or Jonas, if Dad left him in charge. So when she buys a mercenary’s contract from that bastard of a ghoul in Underworld, she doesn't know what to do.

Charon is… complex. Percy wasn’t quite sure what to make of him the first time they met. Oh, she was definitely intimidated, though. A ghoul that tall would make a small girl like her shrink further. Hell, normally she’s pretty gutsy, but when she first spoke to Charon? She stammered and fumbled with her words. Percy would be lying if she said she didn’t find the ghoul interesting, if not strangely attractive, for his gruff demeanor and imposing size.

When Ahzrukhal, Charon’s former boss, told her that he was brainwashed to follow anyone who owns his contract, she had wanted to set him free. Free-thinking and defiant, she couldn’t imagine being in his shoes. This girl naively and recklessly pitied him. So she bought his contract, with every intention of freeing him from it.

But of course things never were that simple.

He definitely needed help, but it’s gonna take a lot more than just tearing the contract to shreds for him to outgrow his conditioning, so she’d save that for later, when she’s sure he won’t kill her for destroying that stupid piece of paper.

The best she can do now is make him feel as comfortable, cared for, and _human_ as possible.

And what better way to do that than to make him some food, right? Who wouldn’t appreciate food? She used to make her dad and Jonas dinner after long shifts at the clinic, and they loved that.

After spending some time cooking, Percy washes up and puts on a clean shirt, tying her vault suit’s sleeves around her waist. Light footsteps patter against the metal flooring of the stairs. Clearing her throat, she knocks on Charon’s door.

“Charon?” she calls out to him. She hears rustling and shifting from the other side of the door.

Her bodyguard emerges, and for a brief moment, she feels a hot wave pass through her body. Charon stands there, towering her, broad-shouldered and imposing, his muscles straining under his shirt.

“Miss. What do you need?”

Percy made the mistake of looking below his hips. Blood rushed to her cheeks.

She wasn’t supposed to see _that_.

Or rather, she shouldn’t be affected seeing that. She’s a doctor in training, for fuck’s sake.

“Lunch is ready,” she said, speech terse. The vaultie whirls around quickly and descends the stairs, hoping that the ghoul mercenary doesn’t notice her embarrassment.

That sight lingered in her mind for days.

Then the days turned into weeks.

Now, she’s laying on her bed, trying to get off using the skin mag she found while scavenging, but its novelty had worn out. No matter how much her fingers worked her clit while staring at the pictures of women in scanty clothing, it didn’t do anything for her now.

Percy tried imagining people she was attracted to in the vault. Amata. Butch. Jonas. She only felt awkward; Amata rejected her, Butch hooked up with Susie while they’re together, and Jonas is... dead.

_Shit._

She needed something- or someone else.

She imagines Billy Creel, that fairly attractive guy with an eyepatch who hangs out in the saloon, but she’s not really that into him. Plus, his hair color reminds her of Butch’s.

Percy tries thinking about another hair color. She always found red hair intriguing; there are not a lot of redheads in the vault. It’s a recessive trait too, so it’s pretty rare even in the wasteland.

Her mind wanders to Moira. She’s pretty cute, despite her eccentricity. But she felt more like an older sister she never had, so Percy turned the imagery off. Then her mind goes to Nova. But just like Moira, the bond they share is more sisterly than sexual.

Dammit. Nothing’s working. Maybe she should just think of an imaginary lover.

But wait, who else has red hair?

Charon.

_Oh no._

She’s not about to touch herself thinking about her bodyguard, _who she also gives medical treatment and psychological counsel to,_ isn’t she?

The mental image of seeing him with morning wood came back to her psyche and she almost slaps herself for allowing that to happen again.

However, the thought of it finally _did_ get her juices flowing after several failed attempts….

Percy decided that she’ll probably never get the chance to act on it, given the nature of their relationship, so she might as well indulge herself. Fuck it, she’s gonna masturbate thinking about her employee _and_ patient. It’s so wrong on so many levels, but the taboo aspect of it made her heart race. It doesn’t help that he’s a ghoul too.

People found her strange for not finding them revolting. Ghouls piqued Percy’s interest both as a doctor, and a person who never saw one in her life. She never found their condition disgusting; hell, she was in awe when she found out that their bodies adapted to radiation instead of being killed by it. She wanted to know how ghouls’ skin felt like too, but she was too shy to ask Gob, the first one she ever met. He’ll probably think she’s weird.

Percy finally got that opportunity when she started travelling with Charon. Their touches were brief, and it usually happens when she’s patching him up or if he needs to carry her, but she’ll take what she can get.

Spreading her lips apart, Percy works her fingers against her clit, imagining that it was Charon’s instead. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she imagined his face; skin missing from some parts, muscles exposed, but damn, she found his bone structure and those piercing blue eyes lovely.

The vaultie thinks of her bodyguard looking at her with those intense eyes, and using his other hand to tease her hardening nipples. Those lips of his look rough, but Percy still wants them pressed against hers, imagining the texture it must have. Slowly, he would trace her jaw with them, down to her neck, and it would replace his fingers on her chest, eagerly sucking at her tit.

Holding back a moan, _the walls were thin after all_ , Percy imagines Charon’s cock. From what she had gathered from seeing it bulging against the fabric of his pants, it would be thick, long, and heavy. She only ever took dicks in her mouth and her ass in her life in the vault, but nothing the size of that thing between Charon’s legs.

Fuck, would it even fit any of her holes?

Still, she imagines running her hands all over the pulsing flesh, eager to please him. Charon had once told her that some of his former employers used him for their entertainment. She shudders, thinking about how awful and traumatic that must be for him.

She wanted him to be in control of his own pleasure for a change.

So, she imagines Charon, with that gruff, delicious baritone ordering her to get on her knees and suck.

Percy would run her tongue all over his length and try to take him as far as she can, and he’ll grab her short, jet-black hair and shove it down her throat harshly. The thought of choking on him made a moan escape Percy’s lips, and she quickly covers her mouth and stops, listening for any reaction from the other side of the wall.

None.

Good.

Pausing her little self-love session, Percy grabs a handkerchief from her drawer and shoves it in her mouth. She doesn’t return to her bed, however.

In her head, Charon would order her to stand up and bend over the desk, and she does as she’s told both inside and out of the fantasy. Cold metal of the desk against her breasts, Percy ran her finger against her slit, gathering her wetness, and continued to circle against her clit, imagining Charon’s fingers in place of hers.

But then, he will pause, demand that she stays still, and kneels, flicking his tongue out against her slit. His tongue would penetrate her entrance, then go back to circling her clit, and his rough hands would paw at her ass and strike it.

Damn, she can hardly contain herself now.

This imaginary Charon would give a satisfied smile against the skin of her thigh and proceed to shove his length into her, claiming her. He’d be the first man to do so, and God, she’d hope that he would be the last.

_She hoped that he would be the last._

Percy lets out a soundless cry as she neared her climax, rubbing herself desperately, glasses fogging from her breaths.

As she reached her climax, foolishly, recklessly, Percy choked out his name.

A few moments later, he was outside her door.

“Miss? You called for me?”

_Oh shit._

Not even done coming down from her high, she throws an oversized shirt on, and wipes her essence against the handkerchief she retrieved from her mouth.

With caution, she cracked the door open, hoping that he wouldn’t notice her flushed and dishevelled appearance.

“Charon. Hey. I was wondering what you’d like for lunch tomorrow,” she near-whispers.

The ghoul gives her a blank stare.

“Mirelurk cakes, miss.”

Percy gives him a faint smile.

“Right. I’ll keep it in mind. Good night.”

Percy closes the door and lies on her bed, unable to sleep.

Yeah. It’s no use denying it any further.

She has it bad for him.

But she needs to exercise restraint.


	2. Pillow Talk

How did it get to this?

A few months ago he was rotting in his corner in the Ninth Circle, and now he’s living with a smoothskin girl in a house in Megaton.

It’s not that Charon was complaining. No, he’s thankful for her. No employer of his gave him this much respect and freedom. Percy’s been an angel.

And that’s the problem.

Being brainwashed into his contract, Charon never knew friendships, much less romantic relationships. Percy calls him her friend but he had never known what that was. Slow and steady, her words and actions teach him friendship.

So whenever he feels aroused at the sight of his mistress, he feels confused.

Was it normal for friends to experience this?

Charon feels dirty, looking at her while she’s bent over that motorcycle she’s been trying to get up and running. His eyes trace the curve of her ass, clothed in that stupidly tight Vault-tec jumpsuit, and he felt himself harden under his armor. She turns around, pointed nipples poking through her sweaty, grease-stained shirt, and gives him that damn smile of hers.

He shouldn’t be thinking of her in such a way. This employer of his gave him free room and board, ammunition, and above all, privacy. If she finds out that her hideous ghoul bodyguard is thinking of her in such a way, she’d probably get rid of him. He’d lose the one good thing that came into his sad excuse of a life.

So, after acknowledging her silent greeting, he tears his eyes away from her and goes up the stairs, into his room, closing the door shut.

Charon sheds the pieces of his armor and puts them in a neat pile beside his mattress. Head against the pillow, he closes his eyes, planning to take a nap. Maybe it would take his mind away from the shameful thoughts he has about his mistress.

The problem was, the pillow smelled like her.

Percy found a cleaner pillow a few days ago, so she gives him the one that she had been using ever since she moved in. At that point, her scent is imprinted on it.

As much as he tried to will it away, thinking of his unsavory experiences with other employers, or literally just Ahzrukhal’s ugly mug, his thoughts always go back to Percy, and his dick isn’t going limp anytime soon.

It must be the damn pillow.

Grabbing it, Charon looks at it with a frown. It’s soft,  _ just like Percy. _

He remembers a wet dream he had about her, sweating like the real one a floor under him, desperate to be touched. Of all the fucking dreams to have...

Fuck it. If he is granted privacy, he might as well make use of it.

The ghoul unzipped his pants and released himself from his boxers, the cold air making him hiss. A drop of precome has already formed at the tip, and he smears it all over his length, thinking of his mistress’ fingers in place of his.

In Charon’s mind, Percy is eager, and he thought that it’s what made the fantasy dirtier. Humans and ghouls don’t fuck. At least, that was the norm. Bigots would lynch both parties. So, imagining this pretty smoothskin girl going crazy over ghoul dick amped up the perverseness of the fantasy and made his cock get harder.

The ghoul would run his tongue against his smoothskin mistress’ neck, and feel her shudder underneath him as he sucks on the pale skin on her throat. He’ll kiss and lick every inch of her body.

Percy would moan and sigh his name. An angel like her deserves all that attention.

Then, Charon continued where he left off in the dream: his cock, skin rough and some tissue underneath exposed, poised to service his mistress.

Pressing the pillow against where his nose would be if it didn’t fall off from his ghoulification, Charon inhaled Percy’s scent. In his mind, he was sneaking some licks and bites on her nipples as he slowly rocked her.

Her small hands would pull at what little hair he had, begging him to go faster, and using the word “please”.

But he was made aware of reality by his rough hands, and he felt disgusted at his own touch.

Sighing, he lets go of himself, and puts the pillow down.

“Dammit,” he cursed to himself, member twitching and still eager for stimulation.

How will he make this work?

Sitting there unsatisfied, Charon was even more frustrated than when he started.

Eyes flicking to the pillow, an idea forms in his head.

His rough hands reached for it, and he shoves it under his crotch, pressing his hips against it. The pillow’s now pressed against the mattress, and Charon’s pulsing cock.

Performing an experimental roll with his hips, he grinds himself against the pillow. Soon enough, he finds a steady rhythm, and he closes his eyes. In his mind, Percy’s ass was in the pillow’s place, slapping against his hip as he fucked her raw, dick stretching her virgin pussy.

Their size difference would make things look even more depraved. The mental image of a cute and petite smoothskin getting penetrated by a monstrous ghoul twice, or perhaps  _ thrice _ her size would make anyone dizzy.

His mistress would writhe and whine under him, and he’d toy with her clit before shoving his digits in her mouth, making her taste herself on his fingers.

The imaginary Percy looks up to him with a lustful gaze, and tells him, “ _ Charon, I want you to be rougher, please? _ ”

And he would oblige. He would flip her over, place her legs over his shoulder, and fuck her deep and hard. Charon would reach to grab her tits, rolling and pinching her nipples, and allowing it to bounce as he fucked her.

Percy would say his name, over and over, and her muscles would clench and pulse around him as she comes, milking his cock of his own orgasm.

But he wasn’t done yet.

The ghoul would flip his mistress over again, and this time, he’d make her ass feel good, too. Imagining Percy lying on her stomach, he’d prop her up, and he’ll ghost his fingers over her back entrance as he continued to fuck her from behind, balls slapping her clit.

He can imagine her voice.

_ “Charon, please, put it in.” _

And he’ll obey. He would put his thumb in the vaultie’s ass, the tight ring of muscle clenching and unclenching around his digit. It’ll drive her crazy, moaning and crying under him as he pounded her. Then, he’d remove his thumb, and make her whine for more.

The imaginary Percy then presses herself against him, allowing him deeper entrance.

“ _ Charon, finish inside me, please.” _

Eyes screwed shut, Charon’s thrusts become rougher, more precome staining the unfortunate pillow, pouring his frustrations into every single one.

_ “Fuck, Charon, make me yours. Please, make me yours.” _

In his head, he’s curling a large hand around Percy’s neck, pressing her against his chest possessively. His other hand would fondle her tits, or reach for her clit, he wasn’t sure. One thing he was certain about is that he was hers and hers alone, and in his fantasy, she belongs to him too.

Oh, he was so close.

Wild, dark eyes would look up to him. The imaginary Percy’s pink lips parted, and her cheeks were flushed. She’d reach up and wrap her arms around his neck. She’d give him that look the real Percy does; the one that’s filled with trust and devotion, but it would be tainted by shameless fucking desire.

_ “Charon, please. I need you. I love you.” _

With one violent thrust, Charon shudders and comes, his thick, radioactive cum staining the unfortunate pillow. He started to slow down, eyes still closed, imagining how his seed would both paint his mistress’ inner walls white, and how it would leak from the tip of his member to her smooth belly.

Breathing hard, Charon opened his eyes.

He made quite a mess.

Shit, how will he clean this up? The entire thing is soaked in cum.

Poor Charon is mortified. Maybe he might need to throw this damn thing out after all.

While dressing himself and trying to figure out what the hell he’s going to do, something about his earlier fantasy made him stop.

Did he just get off at the thought of his  _ employer _ telling him she  _ loves _ him?

Oh, he’s in deep trouble now.


End file.
